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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa	By : CryingCinderella Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Snape/Hermione Views: 32182 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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A/N: Oh goodness....

It hadn’t been easy but with a few owls to Fred and George she’d managed to create a very unique box of sweets. The tin was shaped like an evergreen tree and filled nearly to the brim with various Weasley Wizarding Wheezes snacks of the utmost hilarious variety; including a few of their newer products which were still in development. Laughing lemon drops which gave the indulger an uncontrollable fit of the giggles as well as Bubbly Bonbons, which created a trail of multi-coloured bubbles to follow the person around, and Chocolate Snaps, which created an incendiary crackle and pop in the person’s mouth, among a few other delights were packed into the tin. Hermione was quite pleased with her endeavors after the library had provided very little stimulus in the way of present giving.

            When morning came she burst into her study. Disappointment fell across her face as she discovered no package waiting beside the tin on her desk. She only allowed her frown to linger for a moment before retrieving the tin of sweets from her desk and heading out into the corridor. She would deliver her gift to the headmaster and then wait. Perhaps her Secret Santa had not decided on such an early start this morning. At any rate her curiosity was settled for the moment as she focused on her mission of sneaking into the Headmaster’s office once more.

            Hermione slipped out of the spiraling staircase feeling confident that no one had seen her enter, and it was a bonus that the Headmaster had not been in residence upon her visit. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw the kindly old wizard rounding the corridor heading for his office.

            “Miss Granger,” he beamed. “A word if you please.”

            Her face was a bright shade of red; she never had learned how to bluff properly. As she approached the older wizard she did her best not to look guilty. His twinkling eyes and all-knowing smile did little to put her at ease. “Yes, sir?” she asked.

            “Fruitcake.”

            “Fruitcake, sir?”

            “Yes, fruitcake.” He said.

            “That’s two words, sir.” She smiled politely.

            Dumbledore pointed his finger at her and then smiled. “Touché, Miss Granger, touché.” His eyes seemed to twinkle an even brighter blue as he folded his hands in front of his stomach. “There needs to be fruitcake for the Christmas Eve party.”

            “Sir?” she asked a very puzzled expression crossing her face.

            “Yes, fruitcake. And I imagine your confusion arises when you wonder why I might address this to you. I have addressed each member of the faculty with something specific that needs to be present for the celebration and you, Miss Granger, have fruitcake.” He nodded to her.

            “I see, sir.” She tried her best to smile without giggling. “Fruitcake it is then.”

            With polite nods each headed their separate ways down the corridor and surprisingly enough the headmaster did not turn and pass beyond the gargoyle toward his office. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and for a moment let a wave of pride wash over her. So far she was two for two, undetected and ahead of her game. Which sprang to mind the notion that her second day of Christmas gift should certainly be waiting for her in her study. With quickened step she navigated her way through the corridors and up several staircases back to her chambers.

            Hermione was so eager to enter her study that she pushed against the sturdy oak and nearly fell on the floor. Shaking her head she calmed her mind and slowly removed the wards to her chambers. Pushing on the door once more she frowned. It wouldn’t budge and appeared to be stuck tight. She gazed up and down the corridor, checking left and right to see if anyone were around who might have tampered with her door. With a furrowed brow and frown on her lips Hermione pushed against the door once more.

            It wouldn’t budge. She sighed and then glanced up to the ceiling. “So help me, Peeves…” she muttered aloud and then rammed her shoulder against the door. Again the door did not budge. Reaching for her wand Hermione blasted the hinges clean off the door but the solid oak panel did not budge from its frame. Her eyes were wide with incredulity as she approached the entrance to her chambers. Perhaps she should call someone. But the thoughts were bested as the door began to creek inward despite no longer being attached to hinges.

            As she pushed her way through the doorway her jaw dropped and she stood frozen to her spot, gaping at the scene before her. It were as if blasting the door apart had somehow revealed the hidden entrance to Narnia right inside her study. The ground as far as she could see was covered with lush white snow. Her desk and bookshelves were nowhere to be seen. Thick evergreen trees dotted the landscape and just against a large mound of snow she saw a speck of red twinkling amidst the white.

            Her heart nearly stopped as she approached and pulled the sled from the snow bank. It was just as she remembered it when she was a little girl, the bright red paint and green-braided rope as the reigns. She was swelling up with warm and friendly memories as she held the sled in her hands, hardly noticing the chill of the snow. Her eyes fell closed for just a moment and she could almost smell her grandmother’s gingerbread baking and wafting up the chimney out over the fresh fallen snow to tickle her snow as stood knee deep in the snow with her little red sled. Opening her eyes she smiled and clutched the sled close to her chest.

            It was a wintery wonderland inside her study. Her mind was far from wondering where here books had disappeared to or how her Secret Santa had managed to create the Narnia like paradise inside her chambers because she was too focused on sledding up and down the little mounds of snow that had accumulated in what she assumed were the corners of her study. Little snowflakes seemed to drift down from the ceiling, which looked more like the midday snowy sky. She was giggling with glee and wearing herself out as she flopped into the snow making snow angels and then rolling about making snowmen and snow creatures.

            She hardly noticed an hour slip by her between the sledding and snow creations and it wasn’t until the flurries stopped and the evergreen trees began to fade that she remembered she was not a spry young child of seven just outside her grandmother’s cabin but rather a professor at Hogwarts inside her very own study. Before her eyes the snow seemed to melt, without leaving so much as a tiny droplet in its wake, revealing her study once more. Hermione sighed, if a bit dreamily, and settled down to her desk, blinking a few times as if to be sure she really had just emerged from the winter wonderland and not some daydream.

            But her breath caught once more in her throat as a tiny red twinkle caught the corner of her eye. Resting up against one of her bookshelves with the little sled, green braided rope trailing across the floor. She rushed to the floor, kneeling and clutched the sled up into her arms. Turning over and over in her hands as if to somehow assure that it was real; Hermione gasped when she eyed the inscription on the underside of the wood. Carved into the wood in sloppy scrawl were the initials H.J.G. A tear sprang to her eye and she quickly swiped it away. The sled had been broken to splinters after she’d come whizzing down a hill far too fast one winter; the winter before she’d come to Hogwarts. She swallowed hard and composed herself. Someone was digging deep into her past to make her Christmas incredibly unique.
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The Twelve Days of Secret Santa